


A Small Request

by serenbach



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Birthday Party, M/M, Pining, Well Meaning Meddling, nothing but fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 04:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3475196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenbach/pseuds/serenbach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin hadn’t realised, until they’d had word that Bilbo was safely back at the Shire, why it was that even though they had won back their home, he still felt that aching, longing, feeling he had always previously associated with Erebor.</p><p>He wanted more than anything to see Bilbo again. There was so much he wanted to say; so many things that he wanted to offer him. But Bilbo wasn’t wrong – he was extremely, constantly busy, and as much as he didn’t want to, that meant that he would have to turn down Bilbo’s invitation to his birthday party.</p><p>Fortunately for everyone, Thorin finds himself in the middle of a particularly well-meaning conspiracy...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Small Request

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HildyJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HildyJ/gifts).



_Mister Bilbo Baggins, Esq, requests the presence of Thorin Oakenshield, on the 22nd September, for the occasion of his 53rd birthday._

Thorin stared intently at the little card on his desk, tracing his fingers over the words. Neatly written in an elegant hand was an invitation from Bilbo, asking him back to the Shire.

All of the Company had received an invitation of course, and they were all already planning what they needed for the journey, and what gifts they were going to bring for their burglar’s birthday.

But on the back of Thorin’s invitation, Bilbo had added a short note. _I know that kings tend to be rather busy chaps, so I understand if you can’t come all the way to the Shire just for a little party. But if you can come, you would be most welcome indeed._ And it was that note that was troubling Thorin.

He hadn’t realised, until they’d had word that Bilbo was safely back at the Shire, why it was that even though they had won back their home, he still felt that aching, longing, feeling he had always previously associated with Erebor.

He wanted more than anything to see Bilbo again. There was so much he wanted to say; so many things that he wanted to offer him. But Bilbo wasn’t wrong – he was extremely, constantly busy, and as much as he didn’t want to, that meant that he would have to turn down Bilbo’s invitation.

He regretfully wrote out a brief note, apologising for his absence, and then retired to his forge, pouring all of his yearning into a gift for Bilbo, one that the Company could take with them when they went. 

—-

When it was time for the Company to depart for the Shire, Thorin went to bid them farewell and hand over his gift, only to find an extra pony waiting at the head of the group, with his packs and Orcrist strapped onto its back.

“What…?” he asked, confused.

“I’m not putting up with you pouting the entire time they are gone,” Dis told him pointedly. “I am more than capable of running things while you are away.”

He stared at his sister, and then at the grinning faces of his Company.

“But what about the mining dispute…?” he asked, thinking of the stack of paperwork waiting for him in his office. 

“It’s sorted,” Fili assured him. “I may have lost my will to live, but it’s all settled.”

He squeezed Fili’s shoulder in thanks, still bemused. “But Bilbo won’t be expecting me,” Thorin said slowly, the reasons to stay suddenly being hugely outweighed by his desire to go.

“I took the liberty of intercepting your reply and replacing it with an acceptance,” Balin informed him serenely, not bothering to hide his smile.

“Should I be worried about the fact that you are all plotting behind my back?” Thorin grumbled, but the fact that he had already mounted his pony betrayed the fact that he wasn’t even slightly annoyed.

“It’s for your own good, Uncle,” Kili told him mock-sternly. “You are really terrible at this courting thing.”

He rolled his eyes, but knew he would never hear the end of it if he denied it. Instead, he carefully stowed his gift in his pack. At least he had until they arrived at the Shire to figure out what he was going to say to Bilbo.

—-

The journey went a lot quicker without interruptions from elves, goblins or trolls, and almost before Thorin realised it they had arrived at the Shire, the day before Bilbo’s birthday. As they went up the lane to Bilbo’s house (Thorin may have let the others navigate their way through the Shire) they could already see tables being set up in the field below, and the big tree in the middle being decorated with ribbons and lanterns.

By the time they reached Bag End, Thorin’s heart was pounding in his chest, but he had no time to steady himself as Bofur just pushed open the round green door and yelled out, “Oi! Bilbo! Are you home?”

“We’re going to be chased out of the Shire,” Dori gloomily predicted, but then the door was thrown opened wider, and they were being welcomed in by their excited-looking burglar, and before he knew it, Thorin was staring down into Bilbo’s much-missed face, his eyes glinting with happiness as Bilbo gazed back at him.

“I’m so glad you came,” Bilbo said softly, and Thorin, quite unable to help himself, stepped forward and hugged him tightly.

Thorin knew that he had missed him so much, but he still hadn’t realised just how much until that moment.

When they detangled themselves – Bilbo regarding the suspiciously innocent faces of the rest of the Company with joking mistrust – Bilbo led them into the dining room where they had their second party at Bag End, one that lasted long into the night.

—- 

The next day, they helped Bilbo with the last minute arrangements for his party until late into the afternoon, until Bilbo was ushered aside so they could present him with their gifts.

Bilbo seemed confused at first – “hobbits give out presents on our birthdays” – but he was pleased with all the gifts he received from them; dwarf-crafted trinket boxes, pipes and ornaments and his gifts to them were also well-received, fancy jams and cheeses, pipe-weed and ales.

When it was time for Thorin to give Bilbo his gift, Dwalin cleared his throat loudly.

“Is your throat sore, Mister Dwalin?” Ori asked, his face concerned but his eyes glimmering with mirth. “Can I get you a drink?”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Gloin added, and his Company made themselves scarce in a nosy, unsubtle crowd.

Bilbo looked after them, confused, but before he could ask what was going on, Thorin handed Bilbo his present. He opened the small steel box that Thorin had put it in, and stared, his eyes wide and soft as he tipped Thorin’s gift out into his palm.

“Oh, Thorin,” Bilbo breathed. “They’re so beautiful. Thank you.”

Thorin had made him buttons, six little golden buttons, each decorated with an embossed oak-leaf and acorn. He’d picked the veins of the oak-leaf out with the barest trace of mithril so that they gleamed in the afternoon light streaming in through the window.

“I know hobbits don’t wear jewellery,” Thorin said, feeling a little awkward now in the face of Bilbo’s earnest appreciation of his gift. “But I wanted to give you something you would wear – something that might remind you of me.”

Bilbo’s head jolted up, and whatever he saw in Thorin’s face made his smile grow warm and heartfelt. “Here,” Bilbo said, handing him a box wrapped in colourful paper. “I want you to have this.”

He carefully tore into the paper, and opened up the paper box, before blinking in surprise. “This… this is your acorn. The one from Beorn’s garden.”

“Yes,” Bilbo said, shifting closer to him, his buttons still loosely clasped in his hand.

“But you said you were going to plant this when you got home,” Thorin said slowly, trying to understand.

“I will,” Bilbo replied. “I was hoping you would help me find a good place for it.”

When Thorin looked up from the acorn in his hand, Bilbo leaned over and kissed him.

Thorin kissed him back, shock melting into gladness, and it wasn’t until Bilbo finally drew away that Thorin registered the sounds of cheering from the pantry.

“I’m sure we can find somewhere for it,” Thorin assured him with a small smile, ignoring the commotion, and leaned forward to kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> A small piece of happy fluff, originally written for [hildyj](http://hildyj.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr. 
> 
> Feel free to cry about bagginshield with me [here](http://serenbach86.tumblr.com/), if you like!


End file.
